Sure Look It, Fuck It – Project Arts Centre, Dublin
Writer: Clare Dunne
Director: Tom Creed
“I’m afraid to admit I’m tired of roaming / But it feels a weird kinda good to be home”
When life doesn’t seem to be going anywhere and you find yourself living back in your childhood bedroom what can you do? Well, if you’re Missy, you draw on your eyebrows, get dressed up and go out and tackle the world. And if things don’t seem to be falling into place? Sure, look it, you can always say “Fuck it.”
Expectations weigh heavily on Missy (Clare Dunne). From the riotous, hugely successful stories people expect her to have come home with, to the constant fear of missing out that weaves through each day, she doesn’t quite know who she is or what she should be doing. Taking an alternative look at the life of an Irish emigrant, Sure Look It, Fuck It, is slightly unusual in that it looks at the experience of a returning emigrant. There is wealth of stories and theatre to be drawn out of looking at those who go away but find their way back again. Of those who, like Missy, spent six years in Brooklyn and come back with life experience but no money and a blank CV to find they have been priced out of Dublin and cannot barter their experience into paid employment or a new place to live.
The story is told in rhyme which adds bounce to each line and draws on the long history of Irish poetry to enhance the narrative and pull the audience into each step the character takes. However, Missy’s strong Dublin accent, not softened by her years away, combined with the rhyme scheme means that those unfamiliar with the accent have to concentrate hard throughout. Dunne has the audience involved in the off by asking them to finish off her old Dublin mantra by shouting out the last two words where appropriate.
Lighting designer Sarah Jane Shiels has great timing; ensuring the lights fill up the auditorium every time the audience shout out. Billowing smoke, high energy songs and a bright outfit choice round off the production. From the front rows, the lights being switched up felt a little much but may have had more impact for those sat further back. Dunne walks up and down the stage but has little to do with the back two thirds, making one wonder whether Sure Look It, Fuck It would do well in the future on a slightly smaller, more intimate stage.
This is the first full showing on Dunne’s work and it is clearly her own. The time spent developing Sure Look It, Fuck It was well spent; turning the story of an average woman into something that is both relatable and a tiny bit magical. Dunne positively fizzes and pops with energy from beginning to end. She gives each song, each rhyming couplet her all. Complemented by Ailbhe Dunne of Mongoose (last seen in Woman Undone on the same stage) on the guitar every time she sings Dunne takes off, filling the stage with her great voice and presence. With energy and an insight into what it is like to be lost in modern Ireland; it is impossible not to enjoy the vim and brio that she bought to the stage.